


And the Butterfly will Share the Blood with the Light

by Shimruto



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Cursed Object, Cutting, Dark, M/M, Psychological Horror, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, Triggers, twisted relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 08:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shimruto/pseuds/Shimruto
Summary: Yunho buys a cursed object. What can go wrong?





	And the Butterfly will Share the Blood with the Light

**Author's Note:**

> my darkest piece yet. and the first horror-something attempt which made me understand:  
> 1\. i should stop listening to Closer. this song is a trigger itself  
> 2\. i definitely took isshin dotai a bit further  
> 3\. istg, Marina, i broke us with mirrors...  
> please enjoy (if that is the right word here)

It was getting colder day by day.

The sudden gusts of the wind sent goosebumps waves on Yunho’s skin. His well-worn jacket did nothing to keep him warm and the promise of the early winter brought only deep sighs.

He was hurrying back home after another shift at the restaurant.

Another disastrous shift. The customers complained to their heart’s content and left no tips.

_Again._

‘So more like the usual shift lately?’

Yunho really couldn’t understand why he had no luck. When he left his hometown for the big city – that was definitely not what he expected his future would be. He struggled to keep and grow at one place but after continuous mess-ups the result was the same – being fired. He always either took the blame for others (even when he did not intend to do that) or said something that did not sit well with the people around or just… because.

‘Seems like this time will not be an exception’ he rubbed his hands waiting for the green light to switch on when the shop across the street got his attention.

It was a junk shop so ugly that anyone would try to erase its image as quick as possible after passing it by. But Yunho loved these shops unlike others because it contained a lot of things with history, with memory, with personal touch. The fact that you could bargain a pretty nice discount only added to the pleasure.

He was greeted by the owner who as a real master of his craft tried to sell if not the most expensive items but at least as many as he could. While the old man was narrating the story of each object Yunho saw a painting in the deepest corner among the shelves.

It was a landscape with a small house – a simple one but somehow still catching, inviting and enticing.

‘Like home…’

It was almost beckoning Yunho to buy it… to have it… to possess it.

“How much is this one?”

“This one? I may as well as gift it to you. Even my father could not sell it during his best days”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the scenery is too dull for people. All those who took it home usually returned it after several days… and actually paid us to accept it back. Poor thing. Even the title is absurd – ‘A Man in the House’. But take a look… there is no one at all”

“Maybe it is a metaphor…”

“Too much creativity for such a cheap thing. Anyway are you going to buy it?”

“Yes, I think it will bring some cozy atmosphere to my flat”

“As you say… Just… No refunds or returns! I want to finally get rid of it after all these years”

The owner wrapped the painting in paper to keep it from damage and passed it to Yunho.

“Sure. A simple painting can’t hurt you even if with the time it becomes too boring. Thank you!” said Yunho but the owner was too busy counting the coins to answer or tell him goodbye.

 

*

 

As soon as Yunho arrived home he started to search for the best place to hang the painting. In the end he decided on the wall near the kitchen so that he would see it in the mirror on the opposite side of the living room even while he was cooking.

He took a nail and a hammer to finish that day with a firm _knock, knock, knock_.

As if starting a new page.

A new resolution - to try harder.

All that stuff we do to persuade ourselves that a simple action can change our destiny. Only to fail again –repeating the vicious circle of self-exhaustion and self-coercion into believing that you are still a main character of your story.

The holder was ready and Yunho carefully unwrapped the painting. He spent some time checking from the distance the angles and balance of the new acquisition when suddenly he saw a blink on it.

He came closer to check the possible reflection of the light from the street or his lamps.

Nothing.

The painting was still the same – just the house and the forest surrounding it.

‘Strange… It was as if… as if there was a light in the house’

Yunho almost laughed out loud just from the thought itself and brushed his finger along the canvas – near the black window.

“Ouch!”

He jerked his hand back and saw that his finger was bleeding.

 _As if cut by the sharpest knife_.

Anxiously Yunho checked the canvas again but there was no roughness or splinters.

 Everything was smooth. With several drops of his blood on it.

“Damn it! I just bought it… Maybe I will be able to wipe it without damaging the colors…”

Yunho went to the kitchen in searches of the last clean towel but when he returned to the painting there were no traces of red on it.

Everything was smooth. As before.

 

*

 

‘I am just tired’ whispered Yunho for the nth time during the sleepless night. ‘Just tired’

 

*

 

Getting up was always easy for Yunho.

Until he remembered that he had to go to work.

He dragged himself to the kitchen sleepily feeling for the mug and a critical portion of coffee. The spoon hit the can end reminding him of the thousand things he postponed to do always chanting the magic spells with life-saving _tomorrow_ in it.

His eyes focused on the painting.

Oh… a new resolution.

He had to try harder today.

Or _he_ would hit the can end much faster than the spoon.

 

*

 

The evening in Yunho’s flat was lively.

He was dancing around reciting the unexpected events of the day.

_A rich customer! Noticed his amazing service! And gave him the tips! The tips that can cover his rent for two months! And the supervisor actually praised him! The one who was always gloomy and angry PRAISED him! And said that maybe he would be promoted!_

“What a lucky day!” exclaimed Yunho in the silence of the room.

For a second the painting blinked again.

But that should have been his sparkling eyes playing a trick on him.

_Right?_

 

*

 

A week later Yunho was drinking in the living room clinking the glass with the bare floor.

“Luck… as if it exists… there is only money and right connections in this world”

He looked at the picture in his phone again.

A group pic from the company gathering. They announced the promotions of the month.

Yunho was not among them.

Someone wrote a report on his shift and he got a warning instead of the next step to his dream of stability.

He put the glass away and started to sip straight from the bottle, fumbling fingers deleting the photos.

He did not need them anymore.

He needed a new job.

Again.

 

*

 

The hangover was terrible. Yunho sat up knocking the bottles along the way. All his body ached from sleeping on the floor.

Something red caught his eyes.

Droplets of wine. Like breadcrumbs leading to the painting that somehow ended up lying on the floor.

Yunho got up groaning from the sudden migraine. Wobbling he walked to the canvas and picked it up to hang it on the wall again.

A shot of pain. He leaned on his left arm trying to steady his uncooperating body. But when Yunho stopped seeing the stars falling behind his eyelids he quickly ended up on the floor again – awake, with ragged breathing.

There was a red imprint of his hand on the wall near the painting.

He checked his hand already knowing what had happened.

Not droplets of wine.

It was his blood on the floor.

The frame of the painting was also in blood. Except the canvas.

Everything was smooth… with a little change.

There was a light in the house.

And a reflection in the window.

A reflection of a man.

 

*

 

Already several hours Yunho spent walking in the streets. His mind was racing with the speed of a bullet train trying to fix the puzzles of the reality.

_Or rather unrealness that was happening to him._

He had been so scared that he was ready to throw away the painting immediately but the moment this thought crossed his mind his phone vibrated with a message.

The rival of his former restaurant suggested to him a place at his bar after learning that Yunho parted ways with his employer.

_“I saw how you perfectly kept up with your duties. I waited for a chance to hire you as a supervisor at my outlet. You deserve a promotion as the most promising professional I have ever seen”_

Yunho was so shocked that he agreed right away and then in a state of slumber he went out.

He was struggling to think logically but the only logic that worked stated that after several times the painting got his blood he received luck and unexpected news. The logic screamed that the man appearing in the house and the blood actions were connected.

‘A Man in the House’ did not sound as a metaphor anymore. Somehow this man passed him luck – which was good. The price being blood… Yunho was not sure how he felt about it. He heard about talismans but there was never anything about blood-thirsty paintings in those fairytales.

‘Maybe people never mentioned it because it would scare others off? That others would think they are totally crazy? Maybe because…’

In the end Yunho returned back and cautiously tried to check the canvas for any hints on what to do further. He took off the frame and on the other side of it he found a fading scribble.

_‘It belongs to Changmin’_

Yunho looked at the black window of the house and before his throat was about to close up from panic whispered.

“Changmin”

The light flickered again with the silhouette appearing for a second.

 

*

 

For the first time in a while Yunho spent the night sleeping in the park nearby.

 

*

 

The rain in the morning and a need to shower made him to come back. He had a good run straight to the bathroom trying not to let his gaze wander around the mess he left yesterday.

The water has its universal effect on him cleansing his feverish mind and helping to form a plan.

He entered the living room drying his hair – feeling more determined and less afraid. The painting was still on the floor. The window in the house was lighted up.

A lure for a moth.

Yunho carefully put the frame back and hang it on the wall.

 

*

 

After changing his clothes for a new job he gulped a cup of coffee with a sandwich and was about to leave gripping the doorhandle. His knuckles turned white.

The inner struggle was strong. But the pressure of the latest chaotic years and constant stress from overwork was creeping on his shoulders and made him pause.

Constant fear to lose his apartment. A need to move again. New acquaintances who would not remember your face after several weeks. Disappointment stigma that followed him around. All this crushed the lock he put inside his mind – at first not to feel hurt, then not to go mad and after… just to make himself get up every morning barely managing to live through the day.  

The monster called _worthlessness_ which was sleeping inside him just as in any of us waiting for its chance made him pause. Its beating heart tapped the consuming rhythm in his throbbing hand. The cut being still fresh. Ready to open up itself for the hunter.

_‘I just need to check it, right? To confirm the theory…’_

 Yunho turned around immediately dazed by the light in the house. So beautiful in tone. Beckoning him to approach again. Whispering the sweetest anythings.

_‘It’s just a small cut… Nothing serious… but if it works I’ll be able to finally stop worrying… stop running…’_

The light became brighter.

… Or was it just him coming closer without realizing.

“Just to confirm…”

Yunho took out his keychain that had a little jackknife on it, eyes still on the light.

“Just for today…”

He made a small cut hissing from the sudden forgotten-already pain.

“It’s just… Today is really important…”

Raising his hand he let several blood drops add to the colors on the canvas.

The light flickered and the shadow of the man appeared more prominent.

For the whole way to his new workplace Yunho tried to stop shivering but the image of his blood being absorbed by the man himself sent him to the borders of sanity.

 

*

 

His theory was confirmed with unbelievable success of his first shift.

 

*

 

And confirmed again with all staff falling in love with him.

And again – when he received the next promotion only after two weeks.

And again – when nobody complained about Yunho’s speedy and amazing career, actually throwing a party for him and singing praises to no end.

And again – when all the deals were made with profit.

And again – when all the clients were enamored by him and were ready to spend, buy, return, recommend and tip him endlessly.

His life finally gained that so long-desired stability. His luck and prosperity were deepening as fast as his never-healing cuts.

 

*

 

At first Yunho used his hand.

But he needed it clean and not arising any questions at work so he switched to his upper arm.

… Mixing it with the cuts on his shoulders.

… And occasionally legs. 

It seemed the amount of luck depended on the size of blood portions he was ready to sacrifice.

So with time one cut was not already enough and Yunho had to use several places simultaneously. Patching them with bandages. Trying to conceal the smell of antiseptic with his new perfume. Buying a car to hide his aching legs with opening wounds. Wearing the expensive suits to hide the price he was paying for his easy life.

And every time he was…

Mumbling that this one time would be the last one.

Thinking that he was the one in control – in control of his mastered assurance that the painting hadn’t changed at all.

That it didn’t gain anything in their little dirty game.

That the shadow of the man didn’t morph into someone with clear and handsome features.

That the man didn’t have the power to stay outside the house now.

That the man didn’t stare at him most of the time, even when Yunho was cleaning or cooking.

That the man’s eyes didn’t flash with hunger and dark desire when he opened a new cut for him.

That the man’s eyes didn’t appear in his dreams, hypnotizing him with silent promises, making Yunho follow the movement of those distracting lips. Letting him to fantasize what this man wanted now.

Nothing like that.

“It’s just a painting” was always the morning prayer while he was bringing his red offerings.

 _‘It’s just…’_ – an excuse for our long-repeated mistakes. A mantra for our rocky mind to calm down and stop sending the signals for help.

 

*

 

Success is a hard achievement that everyone wishes for but most of the time is unprepared and unable to handle.

Yunho was determined to catch up on a lot of things – home, establishing reputation, social connections, money, rainy day deposits.

But even the most resolute and concentrated people need a break and a let out for their bottled up emotions and needs.

 

*

 

The girl followed him after the party that celebrated Yunho’s another perfect deal.

His apartment was closer.

‘Only for tonight… I just need someone to embrace… too lonely to bear it tonight’

The flirting was short, the act was shorter.

Both were drunk enough to forget any mishaps they experienced with each other. The girl was quick to call a taxi after receiving what she wanted leaving Yunho to black out on the sofa in the living room.

 

*

 

Yunho was happy to sleep for a day or two more but he felt an unpleasant jerk in his mind – almost physical.

He fought to open his eyes but the hangover was pinning him down and dancing in steel heels on his head. After several minutes of trying to reconnect his arms and legs to his body Yunho dragged himself down to sit on the floor, head leaning back on the sofa.

The moment the world stopped spinning he started stretching and felt something sticky under his hands. The images of the last night passed through his mind and he was ready to swear at himself for forgetting to use protection.

Slowly opening his eyes he was mentally prepared to clean the remainings of the little fun only to scream and jump on the sofa again.

Blood.

A lot of blood.

His blood.

Everywhere.

On the floor.

On the table.

On the wall.

Jerkily Yunho started to trace the fresh cuts on his hand. With trembling fingers he lifted his shirt only to find the abstract composition of bloody lines on his stomach and chest. 

Breathing only because he made himself to Yunho was frantically looking around for the painting. It was missing from its usual spot.

Carefully he took several steps towards the wall and saw the canvas on the floor supported by the chair. As if someone chose this particular place for a mysterious reason.

However the mystery was solved the next moment – when Yunho turned around and saw that the canvas was facing the mirror.

The mirror on which a message for him was left with his blood.

_‘MINE’_

 

*

 

Maybe that is the feeling when the whole universe is trying to pump its air in you in one go. You do not know whether to inhale or exhale.

Yunho’s knees went weak and he crushed to the floor, hands sliding from the open wounds. New red paths to the collection around.

Cold sweat was mixing with the tears of insanity. Yunho tried to count, to produce at least one sound to slap himself from this nightmare but nothing worked.

His throat was blocked. The mouth forgot how to move. The mind stopped delivering the shields from the inevitable truth.

“I am not insane! I am all right! I will wake up! This cannot be real! Cannot! It could not… No… this…”

_“Hello, Yunho”_

The deep colorful voice put a stop to everything Yunho was trying to do at that moment. He was so frightened that he could not make himself turn back to find the source of the sound.

But the sound was not from behind.

It was from the front.

The mirror that held only his reflection for the past years now projected the smirking man from the painting.

 

*

 

“You are not real!”

The man slowly tilted his head, gaze following the lines of Yunho’s spread body.

“Are you sure you can tell real apart? After all we have been through…” the ending was whispered like honey but the smile was predatory.

Yunho was shaking his head violently as if it could dispell the mirage.

“You can’t… you couldn’t… how?”

“Oh… thanks to you”

The man looked at the painting.

“From here? Because it is facing the mirror? You can travel through this?”

“Yes…”

Yunho had never moved so fast. He grabbed the painting and sent it flying across the room to the front door. It fell with the landscape facing the floor. Erratically breathing he turned back to the mirror to find the man gone.

“It worked! Yes!”

The relief only started to enter his body when…

_“… or No”_

The shock shoved Yunho backwards and he hit his head on the chair. The pain only multiplied.

“Damn…”

“Well… you may call me Changmin. I missed how your pretty lips move pronouncing my name”

“What are you?”

The man crossed his hands and lazily followed Yunho’s attempts to stop shaking.

 “Don’t you know already?”

“No! Go away!”

Again that ravening smile that made the hair stand up on Yunho’s body.

“Do you really wish for this, Yunho?” Changmin’s eyes were piercing the core of Yunho’s soul. “Of course not… You want it yourself. You want to be here. With me”

Yunho felt that his back started to hurt from his attempts to dissipate into the chair behind. He begged for all his strength to return to him and give him a chance to run. He started to get up.

“No! I… need to leave. I need to go…”

“Not so quickly”

“You are just a reflection! You can’t do anything!”

Changmin’s eyes flashed with the promise of nothing good. It was a staring contest Yunho knew he would not win.

Yunho took one step.

Changmin snarled and stretched his arm.

Right away Yunho’s skin went cold. He saw Changmin only in the mirror but physically felt his touch. A little pressure that turned into a strong grip that after transformed into a stupor of his whole body. He tried to move his fingers but couldn’t. He felt numb – as if he was cemented alive.

Changmin was merging with Yunho’s reflection to overtake over all his actions. The body seemed one but the face was like a hologram picture changing itself depending on the angle and the speaker.

Yunho attempted another step. He saw Changmin laughing almost genuinely only to harden control over him in a second and make him run to the mirror on his slightest wish.

“Why are you running away when we’ve become so close, Yunho?”

“Let me go…”

The faces in the reflection changed so fast that Yunho felt nauseous.

“I was so touched. You were so eager to help to set me free…”

“I didn’t…”

“… want that? Of course… people… all of you usually do everything for yourself. To gain, to win, to seduce. All to satisfy your personal hunger… Just what I love”

“There is no hunger in me”

“For most of the things… maybe. You use money and influence to keep yourself floating… enough to get up in the mornings without a headache for the future”

“Is this what you want? To use this money and success? To possess me and enjoy it yourself?”

“Hmm… these weak desires are not for me. I crave for much deeper things. The things that are deep in your soul” Changmin’s lips brushed along Yunho’s neck. “This sacred place of yours makes it so sweet and exciting for me to break in”

Yunho stared blankly at his own face. The true face that seemed to laugh at himself and at his very existence.

“Then you’ve failed. I am not craving for anything… My soul is not deep. I don’t even have dreams or goals. I just need to survive. There is nothing in me. You chose wrong… I am…”

“… pathetic? Sure you are”

To know and silently remind it you to yourself is one thing. To hear your darkest thoughts being thrown at you with such an ease is another.

Crushing. Devastating. Putting a fat dot to your pitiful excuses for yourself.

After hearing your deepest secrets from other people you can’t face reality as before. In fact – you may not be able to face it ever.

Yunho’s eyes dropped to the floor. Face flushed with shame and memories. The vision was about to blur from the uncontrolled tears.

“Shutting yourself. Giving up on yourself. Selling yourself cheap even in your mind…. Truly the most pathetic thing people can do. Such people do not differ from objects… just taking the unnecessary space and oxygen from others…”

Yunho felt his hand lifting and his own fingers brushing along his cheek. His whole body was frozen and he could only move his eyes up to focus on the mirror image of him and Changmin abruptly projecting over him. His hand traced his lips and his heartbeat went to the roof. He knew it was only his hand but the feeling from the touch was not his own. The hand slid lower to the throat suddenly changing from feather touches to a strong suffocating grip.

Yunho couldn’t breathe.  

Changmin’s face flickered near his. Eyes intense. The tongue licking the lips as if before the meal.

“You want me to stop the oxygen for you, Yunho?”

Yunho struggled to answer but could only gasp for air.

Changmin pressed his lips to Yunho’s ear.

“Of course you don’t…”

The pressure disappeared and Yunho was able to inhale trying to stabilize his slipping senses.

“You don’t want it because you have not given up yet”

“What are you talking about?”

“You say there is no hunger in you. Bu the problem is… all of us are hungry for something. For different people there are different things and I feel yours… Your strongest desire… hidden under all hatred and self-pity…”

Yunho’s hand pressed on his stomach and started slowly crawling up. The shirt folding up with it revealing his milk skin with bloody sunset colors. The moment his hand reached his heart it clutched it with such force that Yunho let out a groan. The other hand curling from the other side made it look as if someone was hugging him.

Yunho could not say this hug was reassuring.

Changmin was staring at Yunho’s heart.

“… a need for home… a place to belong… I can give you what they stole from you”

A shiver went through Yunho’s body. He tried to look away. To run from here at least with his eyes but his hand left his heart quickly to cup his face and make him hold Changmin’s gaze.

“How did you know?” whimpered Yunho.

Chuckling Changmin released the grip on his hand letting it fall down.

“I was in your head before… and I am now. I can see all you feel and felt. How your miserable life began…”

Yunho’s eyes widened. He was ready to scream but only begging was possible right now.

“Stop! It’s not like that…”

“Tsk tsk… Poor Yunho. Still hoping your parents would support you and accept you back if you get successful… when they just used your beloved home for cheating on each other…”

“Stop…”

“When the moment your father left your mother started to blame you for the little happy family breaking up…”

“Stop…”

“When she did not care about you even when you were ill…”

“Stop, please…”

“When she found a new lover and he threw you out in the streets…”

“Enough…”

“And she did not even notice that while you were living without a roof above your head and begged for help. But the world is that kind – making you fight for what you want… though… you didn’t want to fight after she rejected you again, right? You were tired… and you are tired now”

Yunho’s face was wet with flowing tears. Changmin pressed his chin to the shaking shoulder and Yunho’s hand gently brushed the new wetness off every time a new drop was about to slip down the neck.

“Shh… it’s ok. I am here. I will help you as I did before.” Changmin’s feverish eyes followed the cuts on Yunho’s exposed body. “You liked my invisible support, didn’t you?”

Yunho felt sick.

“I… no… stop…”

But Changmin did not hear him anymore – frantically eating him with his gaze alone, making Yunho’s hands wander along his torso.

“You called for me at night. You saw me in the dreams and I saw how you were willing to cut deeper… for me…”

“Not for you…”

“Oh just accept it, Yunho. Your every morning was filled with me”

“You made me do all that…”

“I nudged at first – that is I confess… but after… I did not do a thing. It was such a pleasure to see our connection growing but then…”

Suddenly the tender moves of Yunho’s hands stopped and his nails digged deep into the skin under his ribs. The action made him scream from pain.

“… you brought that slut”

The voice was icy and hissing, hoarse with punishment.

“You might have forgotten how you feel but you belong to me, Yunho. From the first drop of your sweetest blood”

“No”

“And you know deep down that you need to have a closure for us to be together forever”

“No…”

“You are mine” snapped Changmin. “And I am starting to get tired from waiting”

Yunho finally felt the hurting clutches to get loose for a bit.

“All you wished for – I gave it to you but you are still so empty inside longing for that dream home of yours… and me in it. So quickly decide what you desire the most and make the last move”

The push made Yunho fall to his knees. One hand on the mirror for support. Another sliding down to his crotch. The sensation sent shivers through his body and he saw Changmin closing his eyes in raw lust. He continued to stroke and every time Yunho was not able to contain the moans Changmin growled _MINE_ reflecting the message on the mirror above Yunho’s head.

Yunho was falling apart from the sensation biting his lips to stay silent. Changmin took it as a challenge and continued his grip-and-pull already inside Yunho’s boxers.

And here he was – in front of the mirror with the pulled up shirt and spread legs. His own hands behaving like a stranger. Making him shake from the waves of arousal. Lips red. Hair disheveled. Pupils dark.

But the moment Yunho saw his cuts opening up again and painting him red he gathered all his strength and pushed the mirror from the holders breaking it in pieces.

Just as Changmin’s control over him.

 

*

 

The next day Yunho spent the whole morning cleaning the apartment from the blood and shatters all around. He took off all the mirrors and threw them away.

He didn’t dare to move the painting from the floor fearing that the moment the canvas faced the light it would possess him or make him cut himself again. He covered it with many layers of his old clothes pressing it down with the books.

This pile was like a cemetery at the place that he wanted to call home.

 

*

 

Yunho was about to book a hotel for the first days to leave this place for good but his cards were blocked due to some strange mix-up with the transactions until further notice.

His luck started to run out again.

But Yunho desperately needed to start anew again.

Changmin could not be right.

He wasn’t that person. He wanted to live because… it was a natural choice over everything… right?

 

*

 

He had to go to work and at least try to save the crumbs of his career.

His whole body was protesting against it begging for rest and sleep – and that was the problem.

You can’t go through the possession thing and resurface unchanged. You can’t catch all the memories of the past shoved into you and return undamaged.

In every reflection, in every mirror, in every blink Yunho saw the traces of Changmin. Following him. Poisoning his mind further. Reminding him of his past.

He lost all focus and became awkward in his actions. Hesitant in words. Nervious in closed spaces.

And such people do not survive in business society.

Actually they do not survive in _any_ society – pushed away and mocked for the faults they have no power to control, no help to fix them.

No one wants to deal with the versions they are afraid to become.

And thus Yunho was ostracized again.

Losing the job was only logical at that point.

 

*

 

All his potential interviews were total failures.

Trying to survive on energy drinks and pills he was not the best candidate even for a navvy.

But above all – Yunho gave up on job-hunting himself. He could not bear people touching him, even accidently. So he barricaded himself in his apartment.

He had approximately three months until he had to pay again for his rent.

He did not know how.

_He didn’t care._

The nightmares kept him awake for the most time. The memories from his childhood broke the wall of oblivion and crushed him, tortured him, exhausted him.

The curses of his father, the accusations of his mother, her indifference and unseeing eyes. All this appeared in front of him in his dreams and in reality chanting how he was a mistake, how he was useless, how he was not worth anything.

The things he heard from the closest people almost broke him then. Now they were finishing its job.

Yunho was trying to fight only to wake up to the final blow.

The message left for him on the night table in blood.

 _MINE_.

 

*

 

Yunho understood right away – Changmin had never left. He just gave him the illusion of freedom and control over his fate. Enjoyed the show and now was waiting for the final act with an epic ending.

And Yunho knew this scenario. Deep down before. Now clearly seeing it.

The harsh thoughts were killing him slowly.

He knew he had at least to try to find a reason to push further… but how?

During the darkest hours at night he would get up and stumble into the living room, eyes on the pile. He would sit near it watching the skin crusts on his hands and legs. Feeling the pull from inside to open them again and choose the easiest way.

To use the luck again.

Because he had to live further… but for what?

Knowing he had no answer Yunho would crawl back to his bed trying to bury himself under the covers. So that his hands would not finish what he felt deep-down.

 

*

 

Only to wake up to new _MINE_ on the new surface every morning after that.

 

*

 

The days passed but Yunho still stayed in his room.

No one was searching for him and checking on his health.

He was lying on the bed completely without any strength. Cheeks wet from the usual nightmare. Body struggling to heal itself after yet another bleeding cut.

“Why me?”

He felt an already familiar touch on his hair.

_“Because you are special”_

Changmin almost never left him anymore. Being it real or just his imagination Yunho could not tell.

“I am nothing”

“Oh, Yunho. For me you would become everything”

Yunho felt the muscles in his throat clench, sending an unbearable torment to his heart. His whole chest was like an after-battlefield – cratered by the bombs of his anguish. Every breath was difficult.

 “I just wanted… home”

 “And we can have it together. Just give it up. For me” Changmin’s fingers gave a gentle tug on Yunho’s grown out curls.

 

“No one ever thought of me…”

_Changmin’s hand cupping Yunho’s face._

 “But I did”

 

 “No one took care of me…”

_Changmin’s nose burying in Yunho’s neck._

 “But I did”

 

 “All of them left me…”

_Changmin’s breath hot in Yunho’s ear._

 “And I didn’t”

 

 “I am so tired… I want to sleep at last”

_Yunho felt Changmin’s lips curl into a smile._

“Oh sweet Yunho, you will. Just sleep… for me”

 

*

 

The deadline on the rent came up and the householder came with the police to demand the debt from that strange shut-in resident.

 

*

 

The police had to use the respirators to take the photos of the scene and collect the evidence.

 _A common case of the suicide_ said the police.

 _Possible involvement in the cult_ gossiped the neighbours.

 _His whole apartment was covered in one word – MINE. It was everywhere starting from the walls and ending on the floor_ whispered the old lady to her eager listeners.

 _And among all that he was lying near a strange pile of trash, grasping a painting and fingers in blood finishing the only YOURS on the floor among all MINEs in the apartment_ confidently announced the householder to his wife.

 

*

*

*

*

 

A little girl was jumping around the house. Her parents just finished unpacking the things for the living room and left to prepare the dinner.

The girl was trying to teach her doll to fly when she saw something behind the table. She crawled under it to take a better look.

It was a painting – just a landscape with a small house.

The little girl brought the doll closer to the painting.

“If you learn how to fly we will live here”

The light in the black window flickered with two silhouettes appearing for a second.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i am so happy from any comments even small ones - so please don't be shy.... or i will send this painting to you *wicked laugh*


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